oieei\lyylds     |     drunk loner notes
Monday the 13th of October 2014, 1:52am
Presently: eaves are dripping with these beautiful and violent looking icicles. Outside feels more like March. An owl that hoots loudest at 7am, puts Radish in a panic. Cantaloupe uterus. Melonbelly, shrinking navel depth, shrinking self-image. But my fingernails look marvelous. For the first time in my life boobs; terrifically lopsided areolas. Kinda less of a moody loser. Fetus nicknames, Cricket, Io, Ermengarde. Twentysomething weeks. Pumpkin biscuits. Penguin, seahorse and marmoset fathers. My own father is dying. Hexagram 49.

Adoption. Debatable. Heartsick.

Oh, child.

September: I knew it would end badly when I saw the dead dog on the side of the road. Wavy white Falkor fur, sort of shimmering. On the radio was a really disagreeable song with albatross in the lyrics. We were on our way back to Fox from Hilltop, I had eaten a superb slab of pie called the Fat Man, read the Sunday paper. It was snowing one of those scantily snows. C took me to the Turtle Club, I don't know why. I ordered lobster, I don't know why. Two tails at seventy-five market price. I knew things would worsen because something like missus gregorian chant was on the sound system. C is, above all, a mouthy boorish jerkface. I've met toddlers with superior manners. Before our entrees were brought out, something he said had me scamper off to the restroom fanning my face, I have never peed and cried at the same time. I have also never eaten cold lobster from a to-go box.

&

Norwegian kelp. Stinging nettle leaf. Chia seeds. Shmearing coconut oil all over with a bemused grimace. Nurse midwife Diane, she's funny. La Croix sparkling water in lime. Jiro Dreams of Sushi. You Have No Home to Go Back to. Ultrasound; technician asks Are you here alone today? I shuffle into the room with my all black crap maternity wear and am moved to tears by the bony images on the screen. (See, I'm fine.) I order peppermint tea with honey and tell my mother the sex.

August: quickening. Chocolate. CHOCOLATE. Zwetschgendatschi. Ginger lemon candy. Manu Chao. A Little Princess (1986). "Why do I want to eat bread all the time?" Exhaustion. Campfire bats.

Throughout: screwy dreams. Runny nose 24/7. So many books. So many snacks. Waking up thirsty. Forgetting.

Love, Jackie


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